


Slippery When Wet

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, M/M, Plot What Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he wanted was a shower...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slippery When Wet

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episodes 1.06 and 2.02.

_This place really does have everything_ , Nick thought as one of the hordes of ARC technicians (what did they all _do_ , anyway?) pointed him in the direction of the shower room. Clearly operatives coming back covered in gunk were a regular enough occurrence that someone had decided that upgrading the plumbing was a good idea.

And right now Nick was extremely grateful to whoever that someone was (although he hoped it wasn’t Lester – he didn’t want to be indebted to that man for _anything_ ). Exploding worms might have seemed funny at the time, but it turned out that an office sprinkler system wasn’t nearly effective enough at washing bug-guts off a person. Hence the sudden, and strong, desire for a hot shower.

It was just a shame that the shower room followed the decorative scheme of the rest of the ARC – all white tiling, polished chrome, and glass. Not exactly conducive to relaxation. Still, at least the designer hadn’t gone as far as to make the showers communal. There were very few people Nick would consider sharing a shower with, and the employees of the ARC were _not_ on that list.

Sighing with relief, Nick slid into one of the cubicles, shedding his gunge-encrusted clothing and turning on the water as hot as it would go. It wasn’t long before steam was curling through the shower room, fogging up all the mirrors and glass.

A soft noise made Nick jerk his head out from under the spray. Suddenly the shifting steam reminded him rather too uncomfortably of the sulphurous fog that he had been wading through earlier in the day. Rationally, he knew that there was nothing lurking in the bathroom. But rationality didn’t seem to be playing a large role in his life nowadays.

“Cutter! You in here?”

Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“Yes, I’m in here. What do you want, Stephen? I’m trying to take a shower.”

“Lester wants to talk to you. He wants to know why Jenny Lewis has left a rather hysterical sounding message on his answer phone. He said, and I quote: ‘what the bloody hell has Cutter done to that woman?’”

“Well, Lester can bloody well wait,” Nick muttered. He thought his words had been drowned out by the falling water, but then he heard Stephen chuckle.

“Are you sure you want me to tell him that?”

“Tell him whatever the hell you like,” Nick grumbled. “I’m not seeing anyone until I’m clean and tidy.”

Stephen laughed again. “Oh, I think I’ll leave him to stew for a while,” he said. “I could do with a wash-down myself. You’re not the only one who got covered in worm-slime, you know.”

Nick heard the sound of the shower next to his starting up, Stephen humming a little as he tossed his own clothing to hang over the cubicle door. Shoving his head back under the spray, he tried to relax – tried to let the water wash his troubles away, to use an old cliché.

But it was almost impossible to do so, knowing that Stephen was only three feet away. Nick growled in frustration. Despite everything that had happened over the past couple of days, despite everything Stephen had done, the man was still a distraction. No matter how angry he might be, Stephen’s very nearness was affecting Nick’s body in ways that really weren’t helping him to unwind any.

There was a sudden knocking on his cubicle door.

“Have you got some shower gel or something in there? They seem to have forgotten to stock my cubicle.”

Nick quickly located the correct bottle, and opened the door a fraction to pass it out. He really didn’t need to see Stephen now, and was already planning on finishing up as quickly as he could and making his escape.

But instead of taking the bottle, Stephen’s fingers curled around Nick’s wrist, his other hand exerting enough pressure to push the door open further.

“Stephen, what are you…?”

“Shut up.”

And then Stephen was pushing him backwards, his feet slipping on the wet floor until with a thud he found himself pinned against the tiles, water pouring down around them. The towel that Stephen had wrapped around his waist quickly became sodden, and with a muttered curse he tossed it away to land with a squelch in the corner. Nick tried not to gasp at the feel of Stephen’s body against his own. He needed to remain in control here. He couldn’t let this happen.

“See, I’m pretty much figuring that at this point I’ve got nothing to lose,” Stephen was saying, his voice admirably steady considering the circumstances. “And don’t try to deny you’re pleased to see me. Your mouth might say it, but your body’s telling me something different.” He smiled ferally. “And besides, I can think of much more interesting things you could be doing with that mouth of yours.”

The water added an extra dimension to everything as Stephen’s lips slid across Nick’s own. The noise drowned out all but the most vehement of his gasps. It made Stephen’s eyelashes dark and spiky, a sight that transfixed Nick until Stephen distracted him once more. The faint taste and smell of chlorine mingled with the scent and flavour of Stephen, a bitter tang on Nick’s tongue. And the rivulets running down his body could never heat his skin the way Stephen’s hands did.

“God, Nick…”

“Stephen…”

The protest broke off in a moan as Stephen’s hand found his cock, sliding across it with the gentlest of touches, coming back with just a hint more pressure as Stephen interpreted Nick’s exhalation as encouragement.

Everything was too slippery, too slick. Nick’s hands scrabbled for purchase as he tried to brace himself against Stephen’s assault. But the only thing to hang on to was Stephen himself. His fingers clung to Stephen’s arms, fierce enough to bruise, as he tried to work out a way _not_ to surrender, to pull himself back from this.

But it was no good. Surrender was inevitable. He knew it and Stephen knew it. As the water washed away the evidence before it had time to incriminate him, Nick tried to remember how to breathe as Stephen looked at him with an unfathomable expression.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did I lose anything, after all?”

“I don’t know,” said Nick honestly. “I don’t know if you’ve lost anything, Stephen. You’re just going to have to give me some time, okay? Let me process things a bit more.”

Stephen looked faintly relieved. “Well, I’ll just leave you to your processing, then,” he said, almost shyly, Nick thought. Reaching out, he tried to snag another bottle of shower gel from the rack.

But this time it was Nick’s hand that closed around Stephen’s wrist.

“I don’t think the shower is quite the right place for deep and meaningful thoughts, do you?” Nick took the bottle away and placed it back on the shelf. “I can’t think now. I don’t want to.” He sighed. “Quite frankly, I’m tired of it. All I’ve done over the past two days is _think_. And right now, I’d appreciate it if I could emphatically _not_ think.” He looked desperately at Stephen. “Make me stop thinking, Stephen. Please.”

Stephen smiled and kissed him.

...


End file.
